A Family Tradition
by The Third Biker Scholar
Summary: This whole 'saving the world' thing? Well, apparently it runs in the family... [Human Fem!Mage Amell, Rogue Fem!Hawke, Human Fem!Rogue Inquisitor]


My family and I, huge fans of the game, were playing the new game this week. I noticed that your Warden, if a human mage, was an Amell. Hey, isn't that Hawke's mother's family name? Why yes, yes it is. And didn't Prince Sebastion of Starkhaven mention that most of the nobility of the Free Marches is related? ...*grins* So we figured, what if this hero stuff was just...

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><p>A Family Tradition<p>

The warmth of the tavern's roaring hearth eased the perpetual chill of Haven's winter from Varric Tethras's bones. Ancestors, but he was getting too old to be running around on adventures again. Well, its not like he ever really stopped running, but the point still stood. He'd run from one utter madhouse, that at least had the sole advantage of being home, to another utter madhouse that was a powder keg just waiting to explode.

Such was Tethras luck of late.

The lovely brunette bard of Haven's only bar was strumming her lyre as she sang one of many songs from all over Thedas. Damned if their dear "Herald" hadn't kept her word and brought copies of any song she could find for their local entertainment to play. Hmph, she was really starting to remind Varric of his friend Hawke. Even more so than usual, too.

There were some odd similarities between the Champion of Kirkwall and the Inquisitor-slash-Herald of Andraste.

Sera came in a few moments later. The blond elf smiled slyly as she saw at least a half dozen new recruits at the tables that she could easily bilk out of a few coins for a 'simple' round of Wicked Grace. But on spying her fellow rouge, she sauntered over to sit beside the blonde dwarf. "Well hello, hello, Varric. Got any new stories to tell a bored, pretty girl like me?"

Varric found himself humoring the smirking elf. "Something in particular you want to hear about? Because storytelling is thirsty work, you know."

She laughed and signaled the bartender. As the wench was bringing the drinks over, she leaned in closer to him. "I heard you was close friends with another one of those big movers and world shakers, that Champion fella. What was he like?"

"He?" Varric chuckled. "I guess that story got further around than I thought. Sera, I spread all kinds of descriptions of Hawke all over. Not one of them is the real deal. But I could tell you what she really looked like."

"She?" Sera blinked in surprise. "I always heard it was some mage boy that blew up the Quinari."

"Nah. Amalthea Hawke, and yes, that is her real name, the poor girl. Her sister, Bethany, always said that their mother was drunk off painkillers when she was born, and thus slurred out what was supposed to be a simple 'Amelia'. But the midwife just wrote down what she heard, and thus Hawke was stuck with one of the more ridiculous names I've ever heard.

"Oh, but Hawke, as she prefered to be called, was a lady of fine tastes and faster blades," Varric said, falling into his favorite role of part-time bard. "She was a rogue of rare talent. I once saw her pick nine locks on a dwarven merchant's chest of jewels so fast that I blinked and missed half the job. Nearly charmed the pants off of that Fereldan king, what's his name, Alistair, when he came to Kirkwall. Even the legendary Zeveran, famed killer of Crow Masters and deadliest assassin in three countries, bowed to her charisma and knifework."

"Really?" Sera breathed in anticipation. "I bet she bled everyone she met dry of gold too."

"Oh, she was quite the hustler when she wanted to be," the dwarf nodded. "Went into all kinds of business investments with me. Owns a publishing company in Orlais by now, if I remember right. A lucrative, if somewhat more deadly than usual, mine in Kirkwall, several shares in mining, shipping, and smuggling ran out of Rivain. All courtesy of Captain Isabella of the Siren's Call II, one of her many companions." He sighed quietly. "I'm still impressed that Hawke kept her around after all the hassle that went down."

"Really?" asked a soft voice from behind the two rogues, making both jump in their seats and grab for hidden daggers. Leliana giggled as she moved from the shadows to sit opposite of Varric. "Sorry to have startled you. But I would have thought you would be quite used to the Champion's attitude of saving people. I heard that she was often a prime source of diplomacy and stability in the city."

"True, Hawke never could bear to see innocent people suffer," Varric said wistfully. "I really do have no doubt that wherever she is now, she's out helping someone."

"Varric here was just going to tell me what she really looked like," reminded Sera, nudging his side. "You still haven't said. Was she that ugly? All scarred up and stuff from fighting?"

"Ugly?! Maker, no! Hawke was a fine figure of a woman. Granted, a little too long in the leg for my tastes, but she certainly was not ugly. She looked..." Varric paused a moment, clearly remembering better times. "Marion was a human of refined bones, looking so delicate and small that a stiff wind would surely knock her down. But once she began to dance with her daggers, oh, though she be little, she be _fierce_," the dwarf breathed. "Power and mercy and death, all in one package. Fiery red hair, eyes as blue as the glaciers of the Northern Sea. She had a way of looking at you like she could see down to your very soul. Not many men, or women, even, seemed to pass her test of worthiness," Varric said.

"I remember her as a compassionate woman, always looking for ways to seek peace," Leliana said fondly. "Hmm. Perhaps I was biased. She did look so much like the Warden."

"She did?!" Sera and Varric asked in surprise. Varric leaned closer to the Master Spy. "I didn't know that; I've never met the Warden, but I've heard stories of course. A legendary beauty, they say, born and raised in the Circle of Ferelden."

Leliana laughed. "Oh, she certainly was beautiful. Hair as red as fiery embers, with soulful green eyes that seemed to pull you in. She was stunning when her magic would swirl around her, fire and ice and lightning dancing in the air at her will. Even Morrigan always said that her talent with elemental magic was something to see.

"Ah, but she was not born in the Circle! No, she was born in the Free Marches, in Kirkwall, actually."

Varric found himself completely taken in by Leliana's storytelling. "The Hero of Ferelden is a Marcher?"

"One and the same! Her mother was a lady of high nobility, and when the lady was found with three children, all of whom had magic, they were taken from her, and each sent to a different Circle throughout the world. The records of their family line were destroyed, as is custom for those that come from the upper class. But First Enchanter Irving tracked them down for her. Dear Threnodies, that's the Warden's actual name, yes," Leliana couldn't help her giggle as the two rogues exchanged looks of pity for the poor woman, "oh, she was so distraught to not be able to track down her lost brother and sister. I have actually kept an eye out for them, but with all this going on," she shrugged, "it is now more unlikely than ever that she will be reunited with her kin."

Varric frowned. "Wait a minute, Hawke told me that her mother had a cousin, Revka Amell, that had magical children. That they were all taken to the Circle-"

"Yes, indeed," the bard nodded, smiling. "Lady Amalthea Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, and Threnodies Amell, the Hero of Fereldan, are cousins. With such a family of fighters, oh! Imagine if all three siblings had fought the Blight! And I understand that Bethany Hawke is certainly no slouch in fighting with magic too."

"No kidding," murmured Varric. "Sunshine could pack quite a wallop."

"Ah, what a shame what happened to the Amell family," Leliana said.

"The Amells? Do you mean my cousins?"

All three rogues turned to the doorway, where a shocked Cassandra stood next to a curious Inquisitor. Calliopie Trevalyan scanned over the room, blue eyes twinkling in merriment as she looked over her 'rogue's gallery' as she called them.

"How long have you been standing there?" Varric asked.

"Long enough to hear talk about my cousins in Kirkwall," the rogue Herald said.

Cassandra slowly turned and asked in a slow, questioning voice. "Your ...cousins?"

"Well, yes," the young rogue replied, brushing her red hair out of her face. "Most of the nobility in the Free Marshes is related, however distantly. We even married into the Starkhaven royal family quite some time ago. But the Amells, my grandfather married a Marion Amell, from Kirkwall. I believe she was the aunt of Leandra Amell. Might have been Revka Amell's sister, I'm not sure. I 'd have to check the family tapestry for that, but I do know that they were closely related. I didn't know any of my cousins from Kirkwall were still alive," she said happily.

Most of the room was completely speechless.

It was Sera who summed it up. "So you mean to tell me that all the biggest big-wig hero people of the last 20 years were all related? The Warden and the Champion and even the Herald? All family? One big, demon-killing, darkspawn-scourging, politician's nightmare of a family?"

"Ah, well...yes?" said the Inquisitor.

Varric snorted, then chuckled, then burst out into honest guffaws of laughter. It took a few minutes for him to calm down long enough to share the joke. "You-... you mean all those Maker-forsaken awful names are a family tradition?"

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><p>Lol. Revka Amell is a canon character per the DAO and DA2 codex, and you can look up Hawke and the human mage Warden's family history on the Dragon Age Wiki. It clearly states there that they are related. Please review!<p> 


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